


Something You've Forgotten

by SereneFreakGeek



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Amnesia, Amnesia Recovery, Established Relationship, M/M, Temporary Amnesia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-12
Updated: 2017-12-12
Packaged: 2019-02-13 18:27:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12989946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SereneFreakGeek/pseuds/SereneFreakGeek
Summary: Draco wakes up in the white-walled room of a hospital, surrounded by doctors and nurses, with two massive headaches. The one that's beating inside his skull, and the one that runs into his room screaming about needing to see Draco immediately- and that headache happens to be named Harry Potter.Draco discovers that he had been in an accident that resulted in some temporary amnesia, and has forgotten the last five years of his life. Five years in which he apparently had been dating The Harry Potter. Now, the journey to recovery happens to be comprised of some amazing food, some horrible food, annoying red ribbons, and one very boisterous boy that insists he can help Draco make a full recovery.





	Something You've Forgotten

**Author's Note:**

> Check out my tumblr! @serenefreakgeekao3  
> This work was released in parts on tumblr before being compiled into a oneshot on here.

Draco groaned, a light blinding his closed eyelids, his head pounding as if he was hit by the Hogwarts Express. He heard people rushing around, footsteps and questions being thrown at him, though things were happening too quickly, he couldn’t differentiate anything. What was happening? Where was he?

Draco opened his eyes and glanced around, vaguely wondering if the white walls and hospital bed were of St Mungo's, since this obviously wasn’t the Hogwart’s infirmary. He blinked a few times, glancing around until he spied doctors and nurses crowding his bed, all falling quiet suddenly after a loud insistence from who he assumed was the head doctor.

“Can you tell me your name?”

That was silly, “Draco Malfoy,” He supplied easily, resisting the urge to roll his eyes in case it sent a blast of pain coursing through his head that was really not needed.

“Do you know where you are?”

This was less easy, though he supplied his findings, “St Mungo's, I assume. This doesn’t look anything like the Hogwarts infirmary, and everyone here is new.” A quiet stillness held the air suddenly as the Healers glanced at one another. The main one kept his eyes firmly placed on Draco.

“What is the last thing you remember?” Draco opened his mouth to answer, but then closed it again. What  _ was _ the last thing he remembered? He was sitting through Advanced Potions, taking his NEWTs- no, he was boarding Hogwarts Express once he finally graduated… Was that it? Perhaps he  _ was _ hit by a train.

“I was boarding Hogwarts Express-” Draco began, before suddenly being interrupted by a nearby door being burst open, the sound of a few people rushing in.

“You can’t keep me from him!”

“Sir, please, you have to wait until the Healer gives permission-”

“Who is it? Jason? Matilda?” That voice sounded so familiar, it was on the tip of his tongue. Wait- no, it couldn’t be who he thought it was. Potter’s voice wasn’t that low, wasn’t that  _ mature _ .

Surely enough, Potter rounds the corner looking much too attractive to Draco’s horror. He also looked older, with stubble growing on his chin and slightly longer hair pulled back into a loose bun that wasn’t exactly helping much as curls kept falling out the more he moved. He seemed to be getting poorly restrained by a small nurse as she attempted to push him back the way he came, but he held firm as he glanced at the lead Healer, then over and meeting Draco’s own eyes. “Draco.” The way he said it, his voice was breathy and hesitant, though his eyes showed so much gratitude and relief.  _ Who the fuck does he think he is? _

“Potter?” Draco exclaimed loudly, his brow furrowed and a picture-perfect face of confusion and exasperation. “What the fuck are you doing here?” Draco growled out, shaking his head and blinking wildly. Surely he was seeing things wrong. He watched as the relief slowly drained out of him, his eyes widening and looking wildly frantic as he glanced back at the lead Healer.

“Jason, please tell me-”

“Harry, you’re going to have to wait in the sitting room. I’m not finished evaluating.”

“Jason, please-”   
“Go!” His Healer’s voice was firm, his eyes narrowed dangerously as he glared at Potter. The git had the nerve to glance back at Draco before slowly backing away, turning and disappearing behind Draco’s medical curtains once again. Draco huffed, rolling his eyes and looking back at the lead Healer- or, Jason.

“Well that was bloody unexpected.” Draco mumbled, shaking his head as most of the nurses or healers surrounding him started backing off, walking out of view. Jason walked closer to his bed, placing a hand on his forehead and flashing a light in his eyes irritatingly.

“Not really,” Jason replied vaguely, and Draco attempted to furrow his brow under Jason’s hand.

“What do you mean?” Draco watched as Jason straightened up, eyeing Draco for a moment before pulling a rolling stool up and sitting, lifting a board up and writing some notes with a quill.

“Please continue what you were saying before the interruption,” Was his only reply, and Draco couldn’t hold back his eyeroll this time before wiggling in his bed, trying to get more comfortable on the stiff mattress.

“Okay, well, I was stepping onto Hogwarts Express. I just graduated my eighth year, I remember that. And wasn’t that just a bloody awful time. I was trying to find an empty compartment to sit in since everyone was giving me murderous glares, but I couldn’t find any.” Draco snapped his fingers, pointing at the Healer, “Perhaps that’s what happened. Those bloody gits probably attacked me.” He nodded toward the Healer, a slight pain shooting through his head but nothing he couldn’t handle. The Healer just stared, unamused, and he sighed, continuing. “Okay, I remember walking halfway down the train, opening a compartment and seeing-” He hesitated, the words caught in his mouth. Who did he see there? He furrowed his brow, closing his mouth he realized was still hanging open, and glanced back over toward him nervously. “That’s all.”

“You don’t remember who you saw?” Jason asked, pressing the bottom of the board against his legs and resting one arm against the top, watching Draco curiously.

“No,” Draco replied quietly, shaking his head lightly. “Well this is just a weird day,” Draco mumbled, raising a hand to rub his forehead. He noticed Jason tracking his movements closely, nodding and jotting something down on his board before standing and moving toward the end of his bed.

“Wait, Healer?” Draco asked uncertainly, glancing up and watching as the man hesitated, turning and studying the injured boy. “Why  _ did _ Potter come running in here? If it was the wrong room, surely he would’ve immediately left and not kept arguing.” He watched Jason sigh, rubbing his face before shaking his head.

“I didn’t want to be the one to say it.” 

“Say what?”

“You and Potter are in a relationship Draco. It’s been five years since you last stepped onto the Hogwarts Express.”

… 

 

“What?!” 

 

Draco’s scream could be heard down the hall, carried throughout the whole building, out the front door and down the street, and carried onto the wind throughout the whole world. At least, Draco thought so.

“What the fuck do you mean I’m dating Harry  _ bloody _ Potter?” He could feel his cheeks heating up, along with his nose, neck, chest- he was blushing madly and he hated it. So what that git was attractive, and held a fierce loyalty one could only wish for in a partner. The man was his rival- rather, ex-rival- and the man wasn’t even gay! Or… Wait, if they were dating, that would mean that he  _ was _ gay, right? 

“I really think you should talk to him about that, Mr. Malfoy.” The end of the conversation was signalled by Jason just up and leaving Draco lying in his cot, mind completely blown and scattered throughout the room. He tried to wrap his head around everything. So, this meant he lost his memory? Five years of it? Wait- he was five years older than he remembers. Just minutes ago he was eighteen and now, what, he was twenty three years old? Where did he live now, what was his job?

He heard the soft click of the door closing, and wondered to himself if that was Jason leaving, or someone coming into his room. The question was quickly answered when he saw a messy haired man peek his head around the medical curtain. He scanned Potter’s face, since that was the only thing he could see from here aside from the shadow body behind the curtain, and perceived horror and anxiety written across his features. The bloody git, Draco was the one who couldn’t remember anything about his life.

“What are you doing over there Potter? Come to spy on me again like in sixth year?” Draco sneered, turning his head away from the man and huffing, crossing his arms across his chest. Then, realizing he was still laying down and therefore in a vulnerable position, he quickly sat up and leaned against the wall behind him, resuming the position.

“You- you really don’t remember me?” Potter whispered, coming out from behind the curtain and taking a few tentative steps toward Draco.

“Of course I remember you, you bloody git,” Draco spat out, shooting a glare toward him, “Boy saviour, golden boy,  _ The-Boy-Who-Lived _ . The boy who tried to make my school life a living hell, more like.” Draco coughed, glancing away from Potter’s stricken face. He started to feel a little guilty. He had already gotten over everything before, even wanted to apologize to him before all of this, and he knew he was just lashing out because he was caught by surprise. He felt vulnerable still, and hated it.

“You don’t remember our dates?” Potter walked slowly toward the edge of the bed, reaching out slowly to trace his fingers along Draco’s arm. It was unfair how Potter’s scent was so strong, clogging his senses and making him dizzy. “You don’t remember our first kiss?” Draco turned his head back and let his eyes wander up toward Potter’s face, their gazes meeting. “You don’t remember what happened before the-” Potter’s voice cracked, and he lowered his gaze toward where he had his hand resting on Draco’s arm now. 

“The what? What happened?” Draco pressed, uncrossing his arms and moving it away from Potter’s grasp. He watched a careful emotion flicker across his face before he took a few steps back from the bed, keep his gaze away from Draco’s.

“The explosion. You hit your head on some bricks, you were bleeding everywhere. I was  _ so  _ worried, Draco.” His voice cracked again and he closed his eyes, bringing a fist up and biting it as if it could hold back the choked sobs he was emitting quietly.

“Why would you be worried about me?” Draco shook his head, his gaze moving away from the aged boy he once knew, flicking toward his arm. “I’m just a-” He hesitated, his eyes widening as he takes in the colours on his left arm. Flowers, everywhere. A multitude of them, though he could pick out the majority of them being narcissus, and he choked back a sob as he quickly lifted his arm for a closer inspection. They filled his entire forearm, covering the black ink he knew was hiding underneath.

“You don’t remember getting that?” Potter asked carefully, taking a step forward and placing his hands against the metal bar on the side of the bed. “Oh, wait- of course you wouldn’t. I was there when you did it.” Draco rolled his eyes at this, shooting a glare up toward the annoying boy.

“It’s not that I solely don’t remember you and whatever  _ relationship _ we had, Potter. I don’t remember anything past graduation.” He ran his right hand over his arm, shaking his head slowly as he eyed the details. It looked good, he had to admit. He was never one for flowers, though something nagged in the back of his mind. Something he couldn’t quite grasp.

“Call me Harry, please.” The beg drew his attention, raising his eyebrows and resting his gaze upon Potter once more. “This is hard enough without hearing you call me that.”

“Potter is your name-”

“Please,” Potter begged, and something in his eyes twisted Draco’s gut in an unpleasant way. Glancing away, and wiggling slightly under the intense stare, Draco just sighed and shook his head.

“Sure Po- Harry. Sure.” Draco tried to tell himself he wasn’t pleased when he heard Potter’s sigh of relief, or saw Potter’s grin split across his face as if he was truly happy for this. This was all too much. “Look, I need some time to think-”

“Draco,” Potter interrupted, grinning and reaching forward to take the hand that had been running across the tattoo. Draco was half tempted to withdraw it, but the weight of the strong hands comforted him slightly in this weird time.

“What?”

“I’m going to help you remember me. Remember us.”

“Po- Harry,” Draco began, shooting a glance up toward the man before shaking his head and keeping his gaze anywhere but toward him. “I don’t think it works like that.”

“I’ll make it work like that. Besides, someone once called me a ‘stubborn git who always gets what he wants,’ so I have no doubt that this’ll work.” Potter’s grip tightened slightly against his hand, and Draco just huffed a response.

“And who was the idiot who told you that?”

“You.” 

 

__________

 

“Look, not that it isn’t a joy hearing of these memories that I don’t remember,” Draco drawled on, annoyed that Potter kept insisting on telling him how close they had gotten, and how close Draco himself had gotten to Granger, “But could you please tell me how I got this way in the first place? What explosion?” There was irritation in his voice, this being the fifth time he asked Potter to explain to him what happened. The boy seemed to be trying to avoid it. Draco glared directly into those beautiful- no, stop that- into his emerald- Green! They’re just green!- into his  _ green _ eyes, blinking a few times to keep his thought process on track. He watched the smile on Potter slowly deflate along with his posture, and a sigh slowly spread through him.

“Fine, fine,” Potter mumbled, leaning back on the chair situated next to the hospital bed. “Okay, we were on a special date-”

“What was so special about it?”

“Stop interrupting me if you want to know what happened,” Potter growled out, narrowing his eyes at Draco before slumping once again and shaking his head. “We were walking down the sidewalk of muggle London when there was a car crash in the middle of an intersection. Then another, and another. We were frozen in place, staring in horror at all of this when a large semi came around the bend. He tried to turn, to brake, but all he managed was to roll over and pile into the middle of everything. Fires were everywhere, there was so much screaming. And-” Potter’s voice choked, and Draco felt himself soften, his eyes wide in horror, “And, with you being a Healer, even if these were muggles, you wanted to help. You began running into the fray, and of course I didn’t think twice either as I ran up to try to pull a lady out from an overturned car. But then someone yelled out about gasoline. And then-” Potter stopped, a flash of pain and grief completely encasing his features before he glanced away, his eyes shining with obvious tears. “ _ Fuck _ , and then the gasoline from the truck dripped onto the road and met with a stray car fire. You were too close, and when the explosion happened you were flung back. The force was so great- I couldn’t believe- I was-” Potter choked on his words, leaning forward to place his elbows on his knees, burying his face into his hands. 

Draco’s mind was racing. There were so many questions he had, like what the hell a ‘semi’ was, but from the way Potter told his story he could piece what he needed to know together. His mind raced, wondering if those muggles were okay, that he was apparently a Healer, why was he in this hospital if they were in muggle London, did Potter stick around to help out the others? Draco raised his hands, rubbing them against his face as he took a deep breath. He heard Potter’s low grumble of a voice next to him as he continued.

“After I pushed through the shock, I immediately ran to you. You were slumped against a building, and there was blood everywhere. You were unconscious, and I had thought-” Potter coughed, shaking his head before continuing, “After I found you alive I knew that the nearby muggle hospital already had their hands full. I dragged you into a nearby alley and apparated us to, well, here.” Potter sighed, running his hand through his hair. 

A quiet stillness surrounded them, settling like a thick blanket of dread, and Draco drew in a deep breath. “Thank you for helping me, then.” He mumbled, glancing down at his hands and wringing them together. They seemed slightly older than he remembered, his blue veins sticking out on his hands. His fingers idly ran over them, pressing down and feeling the tube slip around under his finger. 

“Of course I would help you, Draco,” Harry sighed, and Draco glanced over to see him run his hand through his hair once more, the messy bun completely undone and forgotten. Draco shook his head, remembering how Potter supposedly liked him, and glanced back down to his hands. “I think you need some rest. I’m going to go talk with Jas- with Healer Tallon and see if there’s anything I can do.” Harry stood, immediately moving toward Draco and leaning down. Draco flinched under him and glared up with confusion toward the boy who was bending over toward him. Harry hesitated, hurt evident in his face as he slowly backed away, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck. “Sorry, force of habit,” He mumbled before spinning on his heels and walking away.

Force of habit? What was he trying to do, kiss his forehead goodbye? The thought shot a bolt of pain through his chest and he took a deep breath, shaking his head. There was no way this was real, that Harry had somehow been able to forgive him and actually like him enough to date. Draco remembered his old feelings, how had fallen for Harry so early on even if he hid it with insults and hexes. How he had to hide it without the shield of anger, instead attempting a shield of indifference their eighth year. How Potter hadn’t even spared Draco a second glance at all throughout the whole year. This just couldn’t be real.

Draco slid down onto the bed, mind racing with thoughts he couldn’t quite comprehend, and one that seemed out of place in his head. It was a quote, Draco surmised, though one he never remembered learning.

_ ‘Growing isn’t just living with your mistakes, but knowing that while you can’t change the past, you can always change your future. No matter how tarnished the soil, you can always plant seeds that will grow into a magnificent flower bed to rest your head on.’ _

 

__________

 

“Like I’ve said Harry, I need to run more scans. I don’t know if this’ll last forever, if it’ll come back in two days, or if he’ll need to be around things he’d remember to bring those memories back.”

A familiar voice nagged at the edges of Draco’s subconscious, bringing up memories he couldn’t quite grasp, images that were blurred and sounds that were almost mute. His head spun with thoughts he couldn’t place, and he groaned, shaking his head and burrowing it into his pillow.

“I need you to go now,” The familiar voice whispered, and it helped to pull him back into the real world.

“No, I need to see him. I need to-”

“At a later date, Harry. He’s not being released anytime soon. You know where to find him.” The whispers were hard to hear, voices mending together until a sharp pain ran from the back of his neck up through his head like a bolt, crash-landing against his forehead as he groaned out again. He pushed through the agony, the pain of it dying down slightly as large hands began pressing into his shoulder and urging him to sit up.

“Come on, Draco. I need you to drink this potion,” A voice insisted, and a glass vial was thrust into Draco’s hands. He didn’t think twice, just wanting the pain to end, and downed the bitter contents. His eyes were still squeezed closed, the pain lessening until he was able to relax his face, and once tense body. He finally opened his eyes, blinking and glancing up toward a square jaw, brown eyes, and dusty brown hair. He narrowed his eyes, taking in the sight before the name was able to crawl it’s way out.

“Thank you, Healer Tallon.” He watched the older man’s gaze narrow before backing up, clasping his hands behind his back.

“Did Harry tell you my last name?”

“Yes,” Draco admitted, nodding as the last of his pain ebbed away. Why was that important? He watched the Healer deflate slightly, but take a deep breath and walk around toward the end of the bed, grabbing a clipboard that hung there before flipping through some papers.

“I’d like you to spend the next few minutes that I examine you to try and see if you remember anything more than you did yesterday.” He withdrew his wand, walking around to Draco’s left and waving it slowly over his body, hovering about a foot away. Draco stared at the faint blue light surrounding the wand, prodding his memories and trying so hard to remember who was in that compartment on the Hogwarts Express. Trying to remember the sidewalk in muggle London where the crash had happened, where his first instinct was to run into the middle and help. He tried to remember these ‘dates’ that Potter said they went on, though as that effort mixed with his own disbelief, it was even less likely to work.

“Nothing, Healer,” Draco mumbled, shaking his head as he glanced up and met the eye of the older man. Draco began wondering, if he was a Healer did he work at this hospital? Did the Draco that he doesn’t remember know this man, was he a friend?

“Don’t beat yourself up Draco, it isn’t your fault.” The tone was a practised indifference that Draco knew well, and he glanced away when he realized he was comforted by the tone. There was something about his presence that calmed him, just slightly, and Draco was torn between feeding off of it and relaxing and attempting to keep his shields up, never letting his guard down. The Healer’s wand stilled, the blue light fading, and a hand was laid lightly on Draco’s arm causing him to jump slightly and glance at him. “Just relax, Draco. Nothing can get you here.”

“Healer,” Draco began unsteadily, glancing away from the comfort clear in his eyes, “Potter said I was a Healer. Did I work here? Did I know you?” Quiet surrounded them before the hand was slowly removed and Jason rolled his stool around to sit on it once more with a huff, resuming a position that almost looked natural for him with the clipboard once again against his leg, his arm resting across the top of it.

“Yes, Draco. After you graduated Hogwarts you had spent some time with just yourself and your mother, as you probably already know you had planned out ahead of time,” Draco nods along, worry creasing his brow as he thought of her, and a streak of guilt that this was the first time since he awoke that he had, “St Mungo’s waited a reasonable amount of time before sending their letter stating that they wished you to join the apprentice Healer program, considering you were second in NEWTs only to Hermione Granger. Rather, Hermione Granger-Weasley now.” This news didn’t really shock him, and Jason seemed to suspect this already as he continued. “You accepted, and began your apprenticeship. That lasted three years, and you chose your field of study as Dark Curse Cures, or DCC, your last year. You figured you had so much experience with it anyway, you might as well put your knowledge to good use.” Draco flinched slightly, memories swimming in his head of a noseless man, green lights and screams floating through the darkness. Jason snapped his fingers, pulling Draco out of his head in confusion, staring at his hand he held out. The man smiled, shaking his head and lowering his arm to look at the clipboard on his lap.

“What was that?” The question filled the air after a short silence and Jason just seemed to chuckle in response.

“That was an experiment your therapist put you through. For the last three years, anytime you lost yourself in your bad memories you would snap to bring attention to the present and force yourself to do other things. Only people close to you know about it, and help out when you get too distracted. I think the first person besides you to snap was Harry himself, and it sort of spread. I’m not around Harry much myself, but I think he does the same trick.” Jason glanced up, smirking at him, “I think your brain is trained now that whenever you hear the snap you don’t even need to busy yourself, the memories just flush away and you’re okay. Seems like it now, anyway.” Draco blinked, realizing that the memories  _ had _ fled the moment the sharp noise flooded his ears. He shook his head, taking a deep breath and looking at him.

“Okay, so you said only close friends know about it. You didn’t answer my question of whether I knew you before.” Draco crossed his arms, mostly for his own self-comfort, and watched as Jason nodded slowly, standing and moving to place the clipboard back where it belonged.

“Yes, we’ve known each other since you first started your apprenticeship. I have to admit, at first I was wary of you. But you proved yourself time and time again in just the first few months. After a year, I grew rather attached to your presence. I was your mentor every year until you chose your major, and then a friend afterwards. My field is in emergency trauma and head injuries, which is why you were brought to me directly.” He sighed, shaking his head. “I’m still deciding whether or not I should relinquish this case to someone else, though it’s not like every person who  _ could _ take my place doesn’t have their own relationship with you here in this hospital.”

“Oh, nonsense Jason. You know you’re the best-qualified person for the job. If Draco was in his right mind he would want you to be the one to heal him.” The voice shook Draco, and he widened his eyes, glancing quickly down to his hands as the familiar yet unfamiliar man rounded the curtains.

“Harry, if Draco was in his right mind he wouldn’t  _ need _ me to heal him,” Jason replied easily, laughing and shaking his head. “Have a good lunch, then.” Draco furrowed his brow. Lunch? He glanced up in time to see Jason leaving the room, his eyes then landing on a brilliantly happy Harry holding some kind of wicker basket.

“Hey Draco!” His excitement seemed endless, like a puppy who was just adopted by their forever home. He shook his head in disbelief, wondering why the man bothered to come back.

“Harry,” Draco replied wearily, watching him. His eyes flicked back down to the basket as Potter held it up, his grin widening even more if that was even possible.

“It’s time for a picnic!”

 

“A picnic, Potter?” Draco asked in disbelief, shaking his head slowly. He watched Potter’s face fall before clearing his throat and mumbling, “Harry,” to correct himself. He then proceeded to watch Potter inflate once again, practically bouncing over toward him. He tried not to let it amuse him how quickly Potter’s mood could shift with such a simple thing.

“I know we can’t leave the hospital or anything, but I brought your favourite food. And it’s in a wicker basket, so it counts, right?” Potter chuckled, laying the basket on Draco’s legs as he started walking around the bed to grab and move a table closer. Draco lifted one side of the basket, peeking in to see different foods wrapped in white paper, tilting his head as a delicious smell that had been previously trapped inside the basket wafted out. His stomach growled loudly and Potter chuckled again, Draco curling in on himself and pouting as a response.

“What is it?” He finally asked after Potter had managed to manoeuvre a square white table to rest against his beside table to his right, picking up the basket and placing it on the table. He watched as Potter grinned, though didn’t answer, moving to grab the rolling stool and pushed it toward the table. The rolling sound filled the air, and the stool slid under the table before crashing into the bedside table, causing everything on top to wiggle slightly. Both boys began laughing, Draco shaking his head at the idiotic move. “Really, Pot- Harry. What are you doing?”

“Having lunch with my boyfriend.” Potter replied easily, reaching under the table to slide the stool back out, sitting and beginning to open the basket and pull some wrapped foods out. “Rather, a  _ picnic _ with him.”

“Potter, you can’t just come waltzing in here with me not having any memory and assume that we’re still together, if we even were at one point.” This caused Potter to freeze immediately, eyes widened and staring at the wall ahead of him. Draco wiggled slightly, uncomfortable with the quick atmospheric change. Potter slowly set what he had in his hands down, rubbing his palms against the thighs of his blue jeans.

“Alright,” Potter began slowly, quietly, before glancing up and eyeing Draco. “I get it. This must be awkward for you.” Draco rolled his eyes, glancing away and hoping the blush he felt wasn’t showing. “I won’t ask you to accept me as your boyfriend. It took long enough the first time for you to accept it.” Draco furrowed his brow, pursing his lips slightly and turning his head farther away from Potter. “But…” A silence fell over them once more, smothering them. Draco cleared his throat, not a fan of long pauses before rolling his eyes and glaring at him.

“Finish your sentence Potter.”

“Only if you call me Harry.” He retorted, narrowing his eyes slightly in a challenge toward Draco. Draco drew in a breath, considering his options. Though, Draco had to admit that he always was a curious one.

“Finish your sentence, Harry,” Draco said quietly, watching as something seemed to click in the boy, his eyes brightening considerably.

“Would you like to go on a lunch date with me, Draco?” This caused a pause in his thought process. Draco blinked a few times, shook his head, and ended up glancing between the food on the table and Potter.

“What- you mean right now?”

“Yes.” His answer was confident and firm, and Draco could tell he was being watched closely. Draco squirmed again, glancing away and trying to will the butterflies in his stomach to stop their nonsense.

“Why?” Draco asked quietly, insecurities bubbling up in his throat as he tried to quash  _ those  _ feelings down as well. He did  _ not _ want to show any signs of weakness in front of this boy.

“Because I love you.” Draco jumped, glancing quickly toward Potter, startled.

“What- Wha-”

“Just say yes, Draco. I have all the food here already.” Potter grinned, reaching forward and unwrapping a weird greasy food that look like way too much cheese stuffed into a tortilla. “Bribing is okay, right?” Draco narrowed his eyes slightly, his gaze shifting between the food and Potter’s face.

“ _ This _ , right here, is my favourite?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. Potter just chuckled in response, nodding shortly. Draco sighed, shaking his head and reaching out to grab it.

“Fine, Harry. I accept your date proposal.” He watched out of the corner of his eye as Potter sagged in relief, grinning madly and reaching in to get the rest of the food. Draco eyed his own in his hand, sneering at the greasy thing, though his mind wasn’t really on it as the words ‘ _ Because I love you _ ’ played in his head over and over.

“Oh, just take a bite of it, Draco.” Potter insisted, unwrapping his own and taking a large bite. Draco sighed, shaking his head before taking a normal sized bite. 

Draco barely managed to hold back a groan. Somehow the flavours of the cheese, tortilla, and whatever else that was stuffed inside mixed together to create heaven. Draco glanced down at the food in his hand as if it was the answer to everything, widening his eyes and glancing at Potter before swallowing and talking a bit too loudly, “How have I never had this before now?”

“You have,” Potter insisted, with a large grin on his face as he watched it, “Though watching you try that for the first time  _ again _ really is something special.” He chuckled when Draco attacked his food again, taking a small bite and eating in silence. Draco knew he was being watched but for some reason he didn’t mind it. It wasn’t a predatory stare like he was used to, rather than just a comforting one. The rain he didn’t know was pouring outside pounding against the window and it added a nice ambience to the room.

“I took you to the Grilled Skeever for our second date,” Potter mumbled, and Draco furrowed his brow and sent Potter a confused look, causing the boy to chuckle. “Sorry, the Grilled Skeever is where I bought these from. They’re a house special.” Draco nodded, suddenly understanding why he had never heard of this concoction before. “Anyway, it’s just down the road from Grimmauld Place, and right across the street is a cute little ice cream shop, pink and green slathered everywhere. It was raining that day too, and we only had one umbrella to share. After we finished eating our meal we grabbed some ice cream, you got the mint chocolate chip and I took a regular chocolate and you chastised me for being so plain. I told you maybe I wanted something to be plain in my life, something simple, for once.” Draco finished his food, glancing over hesitantly toward Potter as he seemed lost in his memory. “You said then we’d never work out, because you’re the farthest from simple there is.” Potter- no,  _ Harry _ \- chuckled, shaking his head slightly, causing curls of hair to fall around his face. He couldn’t be just Potter while opening up like that, revealing himself to Draco. He was Harry, a boy who was in love with someone who had forgotten him. It was plain as day to Draco now, written all over him.

Draco glanced away, images flashing in his head, and he furrowed his brow. “Your ice cream began to melt down your fingers because you were talking too much.” Draco mumbled, staring at his hands but not really seeing them. Flashes of a gloomy muggle street quickly passed his mind, a faceless boy and loud laughter filling his head. “You teased me about worrying about it and I said I didn’t want it to get on my clothes.” Draco smirked, shaking his head as he remembered the expensive black coat he had worn to the date. He had wanted to impress Harry, and for some reason thought dressing up was the way to do it. “I told you to clean it up and you said no, so I leaned over and licked the chocolate off of your hand.” Draco began to flush, trying to force the smile that wanted to crack to stay off of his face. “You choked.”

“I was just surprised,” Harry said quietly, teasingly, and Draco finally lifted his head and eyed the boy with a new light. He was blushing slightly too, the colour mixing well with his skin tone, but laughing lightly and shaking his head. “You remember?” He asked even quieter, reaching forward and placing a hand on Draco’s.

“I- only what I said. That’s all I remember. It’s coming in flashes and sounds, and I can’t remember your face very well. But I assume it’s you, considering,” Draco murmured, shrugging and glancing at where Harry had laid his hands on Draco’s. “This is-” Draco hesitated, furrowing his brow and taking a deep breath. “This is real then? You and me? We actually happened?” A quiet surrounded them as Draco worried about the answer, pulling his bottom lip into his mouth to bite at it lightly. He finally gathered the nerve to glance up toward Harry, meeting his eyes. The boy just nodded lightly, a small smile widening ever so slightly.

“Yeah. You were skeptic at first before too. I have to admit though, I was too. It took us months of being friends, Hermione yelling at me in private about how oblivious I was, to ask you on a date. Our first one was,” Harry hesitated, glancing down toward the sheets on the bed and moving his free hand to pinch at them, but a wide grin spread across his face that he couldn’t stop, “It was a picnic. We had finger foods that Mrs. Weasley made for us, and afterward we went for a leisurely flight that ended up being oddly competitive.” Harry laughed, and Draco couldn’t help a small chuckle and a shake of his head. “Something Healer Tallon said stuck in my head, that familiar things might help bring memories back. I figured if I went along and repeated our dates, maybe you’d remember them over time.” Harry glanced up and smirked, winking toward Draco, and he in turn felt his heart skip a beat. That couldn’t be healthy. “So, I figured a picnic. Even though we’re not outside and we don’t have brooms to fly around on, I decided that this wicker basket we had used before would work, maybe? And I didn’t have time to ask Mrs. Weasley to make us some food. So, I picked up your favourite from the Grilled Skeever, since that was our second date. Oh!” Harry jumped up, taking his hand from Draco’s (he tried not to feel disappointed about that) and reaching into the basket once more. “I actually brought some mint chocolate chip ice cream for you!”

Draco watched him pull out a small bowl with a lid, opening a plastic wrapper containing the tiniest spoon he had ever seen. Taking the lid off, he jammed the spoon into the ice cream and held it out for Draco to take as if this was some great achievement. Draco couldn’t help a slight chuckle, shaking his head and taking it. Harry reached in, taking his own chocolate out, and they began eating in their dessert in silence with only the sounds of rain pelting the nearby window to occupy them. Harry was the first one to break the silence.

“So does this mean I’m older than you?” Draco blinked, furrowing his brow and finally glancing over toward him.

“What in the name of Merlin are you talking about?” He let his hands fall, his ice cream mostly eaten by now, to rest the bowl in his lap as he stared confounded toward the excited puppy of a boy.

“If you have forgotten five years of your life, technically your brain thinks you’re eighteen!” Harry said, leaning forward toward him. “And  _ I’m _ twenty-three. So  _ technically _ I’m older than you right now!” Draco shook his head, the thought process of the boy giving him a headache.

“I don’t think it works like that Harry.” The boy smiled even bigger, his eyes widening a fraction before glancing away and flushing.

“I- uh- I mean-” He cleared his throat, sitting back in his chair and grinning stupidly toward the floor as he played with his ice cream with his own tiny spoon. “That was the first time you didn’t have to  _ try _ to call me Harry.” Draco widened his eyes, glancing away and flushing himself. Suddenly a loud laugh fills the room and he glances back, feeling hopeless trying to follow Harry’s thought process. “I feel like we just started dating again. I keep blushing at every little thing and-” He ran a hand through his hair, glancing up and meeting Draco’s eyes. The colour staining his cheeks sent Draco’s heart fluttering, and he had to glance away to hide a small smile. 

“Well, technically we  _ did _ just start dating,” Draco mumbled in response, before quickly adding, “Rather, just started dating because we just had a date, not because we’re in a relationship.” Draco flushed lightly, and the words caused Harry to chuckle. 

“Right,” Harry agreed, and Draco felt his gaze watching him. He really couldn’t believe he was being so open with Harry. Before the boy arrived he hadn’t wanted to see him at all, yet somehow his entire world flipped on his head every second he spent with Harry. It sort of made sense in his head, slightly, that if he really had been spending years with him that his brain would recognize him and would relax in his presence. Or maybe Harry knew how to act around Draco now that he had been around him for so long. Whatever it was, it caused Draco to blush more and he felt like his face was radiating heat by now.

“I don’t get why we started out in the first place. How you could forgive me-”

“We’ve talked about it before,” Harry replied quickly, shaking his head and scooting closer to Draco, resting his hand atop of Draco’s clasped ones. “It was an emotional time that I don’t care to repeat. When your memories come back, then you’ll know. Just know for now that everything is settled. I’ve forgiven you, and so has everyone else. You’ve already proved yourself.” Draco shook his head slightly, taking a deep breath. “Growing isn’t just living with your mistakes, but knowing that while you can’t change the past, you can always change your future.” Draco glanced up quickly to Harry, shocked.

“No matter how tarnished the soil, you can always plant seeds that will grow into a magnificent flower bed to rest your head on.” Draco mumbled, finishing the quote he had remembered from before he had fallen asleep, watching Harry’s face light up. Slowly, Harry took Draco’s left hand and turned it over, revealing the flowers on his forearm.

“You planted the seeds in the tarnished soil,” Harry mumbled, using his free hand to lightly trace Draco’s tattoo, “And created a flower bed. Though,” Harry grinned, glancing up and meeting Draco’s gaze before winking, “I tend to rest my head on this flower bed more than you do. You’re a comfy pillow, Draco Malfoy.”

 

__________

 

Once Harry left to do Merlin only knows what, Draco was left alone, awake, for the first time. He briefly considered just sleeping to pass the time, though knew he wouldn’t gain anything from it. He doubted he’d be able to, he felt wide awake after their encounter. So he sat there like a lump, studying the room he stayed in and wondering if he was even allowed to get out of bed.

He had just finished counting the number of flowers on the wallpaper when his mother came by some time later carrying a sack of books that she left on the nightstand next to the bed. They sat and spoke about what he remembered and what he didn’t, and she nodded along silently. He took a look at the books once there was no more to be said, Narcissa withdrawing a book of her own from her purse, and they read together silently. It was nice, and Draco tried not to worry about how her hair was too grey, or how she seemed too quiet for his liking.

Everything seemed peaceful until his door slammed open- he should really get someone to move this curtain so he could see the door- and someone rushed in, the sounds of many paper bags swishing against each other and hurried footsteps filling the room.

“Oh good! You’re still awake! I’m so sorry I’m late!” Hermione spoke a bit loudly, and breathlessly as if she ran all the way here. She had three bags in one elbow, four in another, and held two takeout coffee cups in her hands. Her hair had at one point been pinned up to look professional, but now half of it was hanging out and around her face and she just looked like a rushed mess of a person. Her clothes seemed to be wrinkled purple scrubs, as if she either slept in them or worked an uncomfortable amount of time nonstop to get them that way. “I got you your favourite, Draco, don’t worry. It’s coffee, so I hope you don’t mind. I definitely needed the caffeine, but I didn’t think about how you might actually be sleeping at a decent hour now.”

Draco just stared at her with an open expression of disbelief. He had never seen her look so ruffled before except on exam days in Hogwarts, and did she just call him  _ Draco _ ? Not Malfoy? Wait- she knew his favourite kind of coffee? Suddenly he remembers something about Harry saying that him and Hermione had gotten awfully close, and he tries to nod slowly without sneering in her direction. “Thank you,” He answers slowly, reaching a hand out to take the coffee that is offered. 

Narcissa stands, having already pocketed her book back into her purse, and smiles brightly over toward Hermione. “It was lovely to see you again dear, but I must run off now.” Narcissa leans over to place a kiss on the girl’s cheek and Draco tries not to let his jaw hit the floor. He says his goodbyes to his mother, albeit a bit awkwardly, and watches her leave as he sips his coffee. He thought he loved it black, no cream or sugar, and this was certainly not that. But the flavour agreed with his taste buds and he had no doubt that he would have picked this strangely strawberry and chocolate taste over straight coffee any day.

“Alright darling, hows-about we talk about this now?” She set her coffee down before dumping all the bags onto the floor near his bed, picking up the coffee and downing a few swallows before looking back at him. Realization seems to spread across her features as she freezes, lowering her cup and moving her glance to the floor. “Do you-” She hesitated, biting her lip and glancing up to meet his eyes, “Do you remember us becoming friends at all?”

“I don’t,” Draco readily admits, eyeing her carefully. “Though, I’m not honestly opposed to it. You’re the smartest person I’ve ever met, and I’d be the first to admit I was a prat in school. And the view I had about muggleborns when I was in school was only because I had been raised thinking that’s how everyone felt- that I  _ had _ to feel that way myself.” As he speaks he notices Hermione nod along as if she knew this already, giving each word he says more and more confidence until he’s pouring out everything he wanted to say that day that he stepped on the train after graduation, “I wanted to apologize for my rude behaviour. You’re a good person. It was the way I was raised, and probably a bit of jealousy mixed in. And-” He hesitates, looking away before taking a deep breath, “I apologize for using  _ that word _ . I’ll never use it again.”

“You’ve already said all this and more, darling. You don’t have to plead your case to me any longer, I’ve forgiven you. I just hope one day that,” She takes a deep breath at this, meeting his gaze steadily, “That you can forgive yourself.” Hermione says this gently before moving slowly to stand beside him and his bed. She leans over quickly, pressing a kiss to the top of his head before moving back some to sit next to his legs on the bed, completely ignoring the chair. “So, I know you’re likely getting tired of this speech, but tell me what you know.”

So he went over the spiel again, a bit awkwardly at first since he was still not accustomed to her presence around him. He stutters over his words, thinking of the clear sign of affection she had just shown him and he can’t seem to reach his gaze to meet her own. He finishes his story abruptly, then squirms a bit in his seat in unease as she keeps her gaze solely focused on him.

“It was me.”

“What?” Draco glances up, confusion written clear across his face as she sighs and finally moves her eyes to the floor.

“The compartment you came across had me in it. Only me.” She pauses for a moment, rubbing her face absently before taking a deep breath and continuing. “Harry had another week at Hogwarts to help McGonagall with something, and Ron had went to Hogsmeade to meet up with his brother George for something related to their business. I was the only one on the train that day. Every other compartment was full and you warily asked me if you could sit there.” She shrugged, glancing back up toward him. “I guess you thought that since it was only me and not the three of us, you’d have a better chance? Anyway, I said you could. We sat in silence for a long time before you apologized for your rude behaviour, much like you did just now, though not as much. It had stunned me, but I accepted it.”

He took this in, moving his gaze to the white sheets spread across his lower half and tried to remember, tried picturing it. He thought he could remember entering the compartment, sitting by himself on one side with some faceless figure on the other. He remembered glancing out the window and watching the landscape blur by, or looking down at the book he had with words that blended together to form nothing. It wasn’t a full memory, but it was something. 

“We started getting closer when you arrived for the apprenticeship here. I arrived at the same time. I was surprised that you were here, but I knew you had changed for the better otherwise you would have never apologized before. We ran into each other often, always working the same shifts, and we connected over lack of sleep and fondness of coffee. Soon, I was asking you for levelheaded opinions on my life. I was going through a rough spot with Ron, and you helped me understand that he was just being utterly thick and didn’t mean most of the things he had said to me. You convinced me to give him another chance, to give him time to think of the words he meant and explain it all to me. And so I took your advice, and everything was okay after that.”

Draco was surprised that there was such a conflict big enough to cause the two to consider breaking up. He figured they were mates for life, after everything they’ve been through and how long it took them to get together. Even  _ he _ could tell early on when they were in their younger years that they were meant for each other. “I’m glad you were able to reconcile then,” Draco muttered quietly in response, not knowing much else to say. 

“It’s all fine now, darling. Don’t worry about it at all.” Hermione sighed, patting his leg gently. “Now, what else is there you’d like to hear about?” 

Draco glanced up and eyed her, taking in her appearance and complete relaxation around him. Taking in her eyes, which showed compassion and love with no filter. This was real, wasn’t it? Her friendship, her trust? Had he ever been around someone, a friend, that had completely relaxed and spoke the unguarded truth of anything? When Draco answered, his voice was raspy and cracked, and he knew that this was his confession, his admittance, and his utter surrender. 

“ _ Everything _ .”

 

Stories flooded his mind, as Hermione’s soft voice recounted many of them Draco tried to picture the memories, what they would look like, or had. A few memories came back, startlingly bright and colourful, like the Ministry Ball that Harry and Draco had attended when they first came out as dating, or the wedding that Hermione had invited him to, decorated in white and turquoise. A few others memories barely brushed his consciousness, though he could feel the realness of them, like a random night in the Leaky, drinking with Ron and Harry while discussing a recent case with Hermione, or a double date that the four of them had been to together. 

Draco pushed his feelings down, hid them away for a time that he could be alone and unleash them where no one could see. But, as always, Hermione was perceptive, and had stopped talking abruptly in the middle of a Halloween story, watching Draco carefully.

“Tears are not a sign of weakness, Draco.” Her soft voice coaxes toward him, and he could feel the pinpricks in the corners of his eyes, glancing up and shaking his head softly toward her. He was able to hold her gaze, wondering when he had managed to acquire such a  _ good _ life that she was informing him off, and why he had such bad luck as to forget it all.

“I get little flashes,” Draco begins, his voice just above a whisper, sounding harsh in his ears as his throat strains in a way that holds back sobs, “Colours, sounds- fragments of memories that proves that it’s all real but that seem so unreal.” He jumps slightly when his hand is covered by Hermione’s small, gentle one, and relaxes slightly at the feel of it. When has being around her felt so comforting?

“You know what it sounds like to me?” Hermione leaned forward, as if whispering a conspiracy that no one else would believe. “It sounds like people recovering from being obliviated.” Draco winced, glancing up and eyeing her before widening her eyes.

“Wait, does this mean we have some way to- to treat this?” He asks hesitantly, blinking slowly up to the face of comfort, one he wished he had in his younger years.

“It means we definitely have a start.”

__________

A week passes by sometimes slowly, sometimes quickly. Draco and Harry continue to repeat past dates, in whatever way they were able to manage from Draco’s hospital room. Draco finally, on the fourth day, managed to yell at a nurse to move the curtains so he could see who was coming and going from the door. He was able to relax more after that, having a clear view of the only entrance into the room- his psychologist (who visited on the sixth day) saying that it was a reflex from his past traumas, just wanting to keep himself safe. Healer Tallon and Hermione insisted on bringing in a mind healer that worked specifically on cases involving obliviation, and Draco had to admit that the exercises the man was having him do did seem to help in his recovery.

Draco grew more attached to Harry as time grew on, though he wasn’t able to see him as often once the weekend ended, since during the week he worked as an Auror. After work every day, though, he stopped by the room and brought his little wicker basket, smiling and pulling out some random type of food, or some kind of decoration that matched something from their past. One day he had decorated practically the entire room in red hanging ribbons, placed an annoying song on the radio, and pulled out a pack of absolutely horrible food. 

Draco was repulsed, confused, and slightly fearful of getting food poisoned. But after one look at Harry’s face, he felt himself relax slightly and began to laugh along with him. That was the day he had his first memory that involved an actual face.

A piercing pain shot through his head, and Draco cried out from it, dropping his noodles onto the floor by accident while shooting a hand up to clutch at the back of his skull. He ran his fingers over a shaved patched of hair where the cut had once been, and felt the bump of the injury under his fingers. Harry immediately shot up, moving close to Draco, whispering questions in a constant stream, mainly if he was okay. Draco reached out, taking Harry’s hand to comfort him and calm him a bit, nodding as he breathed the pain away.

Then he remembered what had brought the pain.

/

They were both sitting in a dimly lit restaurant, the light setting feeling so irregular on their eyes that it was causing a small headache. Their heads brushed these  _ annoying _ red ribbons every time they moved their heads, and the food they ordered tasted worse than the food at St. Mungos. But this was their seventh date, and Blaise had dared Harry to take Draco here. Secretly, he knew the real reason.

“If you both can survive a date at this _hellscape_ , then you can survive any hardships you may face in the future concerning your relationship.” Blaise had told him one time over drinks, when it was just him and Draco. Then proceeded to tell Harry how _fantastic_ the place was, and that it was _top tier_ _dating_ , and _of course_ Harry’s not at that level of a relationship with Draco to take him there yet.

So they went. And they  _ didn’t _ eat the horrible food, but instead talked of their day and had fun making fun of the worst restaurant in all of London.

“Remind me to thank Blaise for the recommendation.” Harry mumbled before he took a sip of his wine, before promptly choking on the taste and taking the glass from Draco’s hand, widening his eyes and shaking his head. Draco just chuckled in response, but didn’t bother drinking it, letting Harry take it from him to place on the table next to their uneaten food.

“Ah, sure, of course. We have that double date with him and Pansy planned soon,” Draco replied easily, reaching one hand out to fold with Harry’s smiling into his caring green eyes. They were so bright, full of cheer, and were easily the most interesting thing in this whole building.

“We should take them here,” Harry mumbled, grinning as he reached into his back pocket to withdraw his muggle wallet.

“Can’t, already booked reservations at that new fish place. You know, the one where you’re sitting inside an aquarium while eating the brothers and sisters of the fish swimming around you?” Draco huffed, rolling his eyes as he remembered the premise for this particular eatery. Harry just laughed in response, opening his wallet with one hand and pursing his lips as if trying to figure out how to get the money out to place on the table with just the one hand, intent on not letting go of Draco’s hand.

“Isn’t that place like ridiculously expensive?” Harry mumbled, struggling with holding the wallet in place with his pinky while reaching inside with his thumb and forefinger, the wallet falling from his hand eventually with a sigh.

“The most expensive we could find, actually. Pansy was jealous we went on a double date with Hermione and Ron first so now this one  _ has _ to be better.” Draco replies, reaching forward and grabbing a few bills for Harry and placing them on the counter for him. Silence followed, and Draco furrowed his brow, studying the now-still Harry. “We could pick somewhere else? You know how Pansy gets.”

Harry blinked a few times, shaking his head before looking at Draco with a strange expression. “That’s not it. I just,” He hesitated, biting his lip, “I just realized something.” Draco just smiled, but held a confused expression on his face.

“And what would that be?” He asks, leaning forward as if about to hear a secret. Harry leaned forward as well, but pressed a soft kiss against his lips, and Draco hummed appreciatively, leaning into it and smiling softly. When Harry finally broke away, their gazes locked and a beat of silence spread before,

_ “I love you, Draco.” _

Sounds of water rushing filled his ears, and he blinked a few times, staring into the brightest green he had ever seen. It was the first time Harry had ever said it, and it was not something that he had expected, especially not in a place like this. A few seconds passed, and Harry bit his lip as if scared he may have said the wrong thing. Draco’s mind screamed at him, ‘ _ Tell him you love him too! Kiss him! Do something! _ ’ while Draco sat there staring like the world was exploding around him. Which it sort of was.

And then air filled his lungs again and he burst forward, smashing his lips in a repeat of before, expect more rough and hungry, Draco’s free hand coming up to wrap around Harry’s neck tightly as if never letting go. And he let himself admit to himself for the first time that he never  _ wanted _ to let go again. When he finally parted, he glanced back up into the shimmering eyes of his boyfriend, happiness visible in a way that Draco had never seen before. 

_ “I love you too, Harry.” _

\

“Ruban Rouge,” Draco whispered, looking up into Harry’s eyes, the green slightly duller than they had been in the restaurant. From worry, he’d assume, considering his face was still scrunched up in an unpleasant way, his hands clutching at Draco’s hospital gown.

“What?” Harry asked, shaking his head, leaning down to catch his eyes, “Draco, are you okay? Do you need me to get the Healer?”

“Ruban Rouge,” Draco repeated, louder, before smiled broadly. Harry hesitated, his fists loosening their grasp before he let out a loud breath, slumping slightly and bringing Draco close into a hug.

“You remember the place, that’s good.” Harry whispered, turning his head into Draco’s neck. Then Harry backed away with a confused expression when he felt Draco shaking from laughter.

“I remember the place, I remember the horrible lights, I remember,” Draco’s smile never ceased as he raised his hands to place on either side of Harry’s face, “I remember you there, Harry. I remember your  _ face _ ,” He exclaimed it a bit loudly, but he was excited. “I remember our words,” He finally said, his voice low, his eyes trained on Harry’s own as he seemed to slowly realize what this meant.

Their first kiss since Draco woke up happened after his first full memory, and it was with the man he loved more than anything. Because he finally remembered that.

__________

Draco slowly dressed, appreciating the fact that Harry had gone to the other side of the medical curtain to give him some privacy. Draco didn’t exactly remember  _ everything _ , which would become quite the problem if he ever wanted to go back to work, but now he had weekly appointments set up with the obliviation specialist, and Harry had promised to do everything in his power to help Draco remember everything else. 

Stepping into his high-quality

trousers and slipping his cashmere sweater over his head, Draco immediately felt better already. Just wearing his own clothes, the softness of the fabrics, brought a sense of comfort and safety as opposed to the strange and sterile feel the last few weeks in the hospital surrounded him with. He was glad to finally be able to leave.

Stepping out from behind the curtain, Draco studied Harry’s back as he waited, watching Harry fidget with his hands in front of him. Walking up slowly, Draco slid his hands around Harry’s waist, lowering his head and nuzzling into the side of Harry’s neck. “You seem nervous?”

“What? Me? No,” Harry replied, a bit too fast and high-pitched to be considered believable, but Draco let him slide. He nuzzled Harry a little more before backing up and letting Harry turn around in his arms.

“So, first day out of the hospital. I’m sure you have something sappy planned,” Draco mentioned, smirking slyly once he saw Harry’s cheeks light up a bright pink.

“I was going to take you for a walk,” Harry mumbled, glancing down toward his hands that now lay against Draco’s chest. There was silence for a few moments, Draco not bothering to answer as he watched Harry shift slightly from nervousness. There was definitely something going on. Harry glanced up, a slight bit of fear in his eyes, “I mean, unless you don’t want to Draco? I’d understand if you just want to go home and relax.” Draco barked out a laugh, shaking his head and pulling Harry against him.

“That’s all I’ve been allowed to do  _ here _ , Harry. Of course I’m fine with going for a walk. I need the exercise with all these fatty foods you keep feeding me.” Draco teased, whispering into Harry’s ear. He felt a shiver run down the other boy’s spine, and grinned, nuzzling against Harry and kissing just below his ear at his pulse point. When Harry immediately pushed him away, out of breath, Draco just chuckled, shaking his head.

“If you keep doing that, we’ll be doing a completely  _ different _ kind of exercise.” Harry mumbled, his face still burning heat from a blush. Draco grinned in response, winking.

“I wouldn’t be opposed to that.”

“After the walk,” Harry said sternly, though glanced away, mumbling a, “Hopefully,” after that had Draco confused, but excited for their day.

 

Their walk began as they exited the hospital, taking a sharp left and wandering down different streets, hand in hand. Harry seemed to know exactly where he was going, and Draco had a small feeling of someone leading him toward a surprise party, that there was something waiting at the end of this journey but he didn’t exactly know what. Harry abruptly pulled to a stop while Draco was midstep, causing him to stumble slightly and grip Harry a bit tighter as he righted himself.

“Our first stop,” Harry says quietly, with a small smirk, as he gestured to the building on their left. Draco glanced over, noticing the horrible neon sign in the window, the tiny door and- of course- the red ribbons hanging absolutely everywhere you looked.

“Ruban Rogue?” Draco mumbled in distaste, glancing over toward Harry with raised eyebrows. Harry just began chuckling, pulling Draco in close to place a kiss on his temple. Draco just shook his head, exasperated, and hugged Harry tighter to himself. The temperatures weren’t too low this time of year, though it was definitely getting chilly outside, and the leaves of the few trees around them were starting to change colours.

“Isn’t Ruban Rogue, like, French or something?” Harry mumbled into the side of Draco’s face, causing him to laugh in response.

“Yes. It means Red Ribbon,” He replied, glancing over and eyeing the disastrous building. This just caused another bout of giggling from Harry, and Draco was practically holding him up by the end of it. “I don’t even understand  _ why _ it’s name is in French. They don’t even serve french cuisine.” Grabbing ahold around Harry’s waist now, Draco was definitely sure he was holding him up as he began chuckling once again. “My goodness Harry, you’re heavy!”

“Sorry, sorry,” Harry replied, not sorry in the least, straightening up and rubbing tears away from under his eyes. Draco just rolls his eyes in response, glancing back toward Harry with a small smile underneath his annoyance.

“Oh come on already, let’s get on with this tour of yours.” Draco began pushing at Harry’s back, causing him to chuckle shortly before taking his hand and leading him down the road once again.

“How did you know I was taking you on a tour?” Harry asked, looking over toward Draco with a bright smile. A good kind of smile that Draco wouldn’t mind looking at all day long for the rest of his life. Is that why he had agreed to date Harry before? That smile had never been aimed his way during school, that was for sure. Yet now, he felt too lucky to be able to see it. “Draco?”

Draco snapped out of his inner monologue, glancing away with a smile he couldn’t force away from his face if he tried. He didn’t bother trying anyway. “You said that was our ‘first stop,’ so I assumed.” Quiet assumed its role in response to that, and Draco was content to leave it that way. Glancing over toward Harry, he didn’t seem bothered by it either so Draco drank it in like a gift, holding tightly onto Harry’s hand and walking one step at a time.

Sooner than Draco would’ve thought, they broke through the crowd of buildings on their side of the street, opening to reveal a large park on their left. Draco tilted his head, studying the park, feeling as if something was familiar about it.

“Do you remember?” Harry whispered into his ear, and Draco reluctantly let go of Harry’s hand when he was nudged, though was happy when Harry wrapped his hands around Draco’s waist from behind. Draco leaned back slightly, watching birds fly from tree to colourful tree, listening to the sounds of children playing farther into the park.

“Not exactly,” Draco admitted, tilting his head and peeking behind a tree. “Though it does feel familiar?”

“This was the park where Hermione had her baby shower, while she was eight months pregnant.” Images began flashing in the back of Draco’s mind, yellow and green streamers hung up everywhere (non-gendered colours, by Hermione’s orders), fairy lights dancing across trees, a table stacked full of presents to help when the baby arrived. Draco remembered his own gifts, a crib mattress sheet set complete with three rags for burping and whatnot, and a small (baby-friendly) stuffed dragon toy that was soft to the touch and was constantly lazy, wanting to lay and cuddle with anything near it. Draco was an absolutely proud uncle when that was Rose’s favourite toy for  _ three _ months straight before she moved on to the next one.

Draco grinned, remembering sitting next to Harry often, worriedly sipping at a cup of coffee- black at the time- afraid that the family wouldn’t like him. He was plenty close enough to Hermione, and too close to Harry, and Ron definitely  _ tolerated _ his presence, though he hadn’t exactly met the rest of the family aside from two visits to the Burrow for family dinners, and definitely not so many had been there than there was at the party. He was afraid, and Harry knew it and was constantly reassuring him.

Draco remembered the moment that he felt included into the family, when Fleur had appeared out of thin air and Draco began speaking French with her. She had expressed her utter surprise and happiness to be able to speak French with someone again, and then yelled over toward Hermione, “We’re keeping this one!” Draco had flushed madly, but when everyone at the party simply laughed, never sneered or argued or even shot any dirty looks, he finally let himself relax completely, and slowly let his shields fall away.

Draco didn’t know how long Harry let him just stand there, thinking, but finally he turned his hand, brushing his lips against Harry’s cheek, and whispered, “We need to have tea with Fleur sometime, I miss her company.” Harry’s excited laughter sprung forth as he picked up Draco from around the waist, spinning him in a circle. Draco let out a loud squeak, slapping Harry’s hands quickly. “Unhand me, you brute!”

Harry laid Draco down on his feet, moving around Draco’s body to face him with a bright expression, so full of joy. “You remember?” Harry had yelled the question, but somehow remembered to add the higher pitched end to the sentence to make sure it was a question and not an exclamation. Draco just laughed in response, shaking his head.

“Bits and pieces. Well, maybe a bit more than that. Not the whole party, mind you, but enough.” Draco nodded along, smiling toward Harry before leaning forward and placing a soft peck of a kiss on his lips, straightening back up and finding glee at the dazed expression on Harry’s face from such a simple show of feelings. “Let’s keep walking,” Draco whispered, taking Harry’s hand once again. He’d never admit to how he never wanted to let go of that hand.

They visited other places- dates they had been on, parties they had been to, even one scandalous place where they had copulated- before they came across a nice looking restaurant. This place in particular surprised Draco, for the sole fact that he had thought he knew of every nice establishment in London. He certainly had enough time, his whole life, to know of such places. He glanced upward toward the name of the place, written in fine cursive, Salvami. He blinked, trying to remember this place, but nothing was coming up on it’s own. “Do we have story here as well?”

“Sort of,” Harry whispered, squeezing Draco’s hand. Draco glanced over, his face falling once he noticed Harry’s sombre expression. 

“What happened here?” Draco asked, moving his gaze to the glass door, to the windows where couples were lovingly having conversations, laughing as if they were having the best time. Harry tugged on his hand and they began walking again, leaving Draco unanswered.

Until they reached their final destination.

Harry halted Draco on the sidewalk of a three-way intersection, staring down the roads where few cars drove by. And Draco glanced down, noticing small crosses, ribbons, pieces of wood, flowers. Draco brought his free hand up to his mouth, his eyes beginning to water as they stared at the little grave markers. Draco knelt down, reading the various names, prayers toward the ones who had fallen in the accident. Harry let him take his time, standing by his side the entire time.

Eventually, after who knows how long, Draco stood and took Harry’s hand once more, firmly. He knew his eyes were bright red, but didn’t care if this man saw it.

“Where did I-” Draco began, before biting his lip and looking away. Harry tugged on his hand, leading him close to a nearby alleyway.

“You hit your head here,” Harry began, his voice low, placing his hand against the brick before letting his hand fall down, “And slumped against the ground here. Once I found you, I drug you into this alleyway and immediately apparated.” Harry finished, turning and taking Draco into his arms, squeezing tightly as if to make sure he was still there. Draco spun in his arms, laying back against Harry as he pictured the scene in front of him- many muggle vehicles piled together, fires starting- before blinking and they all disappear, leaving the two boys in the fading twilight, one lone car driving down the road. “When you’re ready…”

Draco turned, eyeing Harry quietly. “This isn’t the final stop?” He asked, uncertain, before Harry managed a small smile.

“Thankfully, no. Not before, and not now.” Harry reached down, interlocking their fingers before pulling Draco into a kiss. Draco melted against him, old feelings that feel at home settling into his chest and stomach, the knowledge that this was a good thing, that Harry loved him, and he, in turn, loved Harry back. When they finally parted, Harry tugged on Draco, and they began their walk once more.

Harry turned, tugging Draco alongside as he ascended some small steps, bringing out his keys at he began to unlock the door in front of them. “Salvami was where we had our ‘special date’ at. We were walking home when-  _ that _ happened.” Unlocking the door and pocketing his keys, he took Draco’s hand once more and began taking him inside the house, closing and locking the door behind them. The building was dark, almost unnaturally so, and Draco began looking around.

“This is the Black residence, isn’t it?” Draco mumbled, turning and looking back at Harry.

“Yes, this is where we were staying, together.” Harry said quietly, eyeing Draco, who glanced away. Harry took his hand once more, smiling softly. “I’ve set something up. Come here.”

Harry led Draco toward another room, a sitting room it looked like, that took Draco’s breath away. All the furniture were a nice brown colour, pleasantly arranged, with a nice wood coffee table in between a couch and two armchairs. Candles were strewn about the place, most floating, but some sitting on a side table or on the coffee table itself. The room even smelled nice, like a rich forest encased within the small room. Draco turned around, tilting his head.

“What is this?”

“You were begging me to throw out some old couches, to buy this sitting room set you had found in the local store. I did it, and set it up this way. I wanted to show you that I wanted you to be here with me, that your opinion matters to me,” Harry began, speaking a little too quickly. Draco began spinning around, smiling at the decor he saw. He knew he had excellent taste, it fit perfectly with the cream coloured walls of the room.

“Well, listening to me definitely worked. This room looks amazing,” Draco began, grinning as he spoke, spinning back around to face Harry. He hesitated, looking down and widening his eyes as he saw Harry on one knee.

“Draco, I love you more than I ever thought I could have, and my love keeps growing every day that I spend with you. I was planning on doing this on our special date night, but I never got the opportunity. I’m not going to make the same mistake again. I don’t care if we spend the rest of our lives recovering your memory- as long as we do it together. Will you marry me?”

Draco sucked in a breath, listening and hardly believing what he was hearing. He blinked a few times, realising belatedly that tears had begun to form in his eyes as they began sliding down his cheeks. He was speechless, the breath completely sucked out of him. Then, all in a rush, as if he was never breathing, living, loving like this before, he finally answered, “Yes.”

Harry stood quickly, wrapping his arms around Draco and spinning him around again, though Draco didn’t complain this one time. He leaned forward and pressed their mouths together before he was even set back down, deepening the kiss as much as possible, a slow dance between the two before they finally backed away for air. Draco glanced down, noticing the thin band of silver, slipping it onto his ring finger before studying it. It looked like a snake curling around and eating itself, a small green gem located where the eye would be. “It’s beautiful,” Draco said, sounding as breathless as he felt.

Glancing back up, he noticed the red-rimmed eyes of Harry’s, leaning forward quickly to capture his mouth against his once more. He knew that as long as he had this man- this incredibly brave, selfless, caring man- on his side, he could conquer anything.


End file.
